


Trading Places

by Kita_the_Spaz



Series: Bingo Fill; Team Switch [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Community: kakairu_fest, Injury Recovery, Light Angst, M/M, Mutilation, Original Character Death(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 09:28:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3805324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kita_the_Spaz/pseuds/Kita_the_Spaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the end, all it took was one badly aimed shuriken to bring the world crashing down around Kakashi’s ears.</p><p>Originally written for KakaIru Fest Summer Round 2013, for Bingo: Team Switch/Bingo square: Jobs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trading Places

In the end, all it took was one badly aimed shuriken from a terrified boy, barely even trained enough to be called genin, to take the infamous Copy-nin down. 

Kakashi had been busy fighting with a much older and decidedly better skilled Stone ninja. But he was predictable, and all it took Kakashi was one unexpected underhand strike to get through his guard and leave him dying in a pool of his own blood. 

Kakashi had turned away from his dying foe to see the cowering boy shying away from him and flinging a handful of badly-aimed weapons at him. “Stay away!” His voice was high and thin, too young. 

Distracted, Kakashi had never seen one of the shuriken spang off of a rock and rebound. He’d only felt it when the sharpened edge had bitten deeply into the back of his unprotected ankle. Instinctively, he’d reacted... and the child died with only one tiny whimper to mark his passing. 

That, and the curved arc of metal jutting out of the back of Kakashi’s left leg. His foot gave way under his weight and he sat down hard on the rocky ground, a pace from the lifeless body.

Grimacing behind his mask, Kakashi drew his foot up and examined the wound. He could feel the tip of the shuriken gritting against bone, and even more disturbingly, the inability to move his foot properly. There was a chance he could do himself more damage removing the weapon, but he was going nowhere if he didn’t.

Clenching his jaw, Kakashi pulled the backward curving arc of metal out as carefully as he could. Thankfully, blood did not immediately start pulsing out, a sign that the artery had not been cut. Pulling out his canteen, Kakashi rinsed some of the blood away. Unfortunately, that did not make the wound any more appealing. He could see the red of muscle, the white of bone and the pale tendon that was nearly completely severed. “Crap,” he cursed feelingly. Without his achilles tendon, he’d never make it back.

Gritting his teeth, Kakashi dipped his fingers in the fresh upwelling of blood from the wound and performed a series of handsigns to call his pack to him. He’d need all the dogs if he was going to manage to make it home.

With a surge of chakra and faint ‘pfft’ sounds of expanding air, the eight ninken appeared around him.

“Boss!” They crowded close, whining softly.

Pakkun sniffed his wounded ankle, short brown fur bristling along his spine. “Boss, there’s poison in this wound. Smells rank.”

Kakashi grimaced. He’d suspected, but the dog’s noses were far more sensitive than even his. “Figured as much. Can’t put any weight on it and don’t have the reserves to try even for a short teleport. Gonna have to make it back the hard way, so I’ll need as much help as I can get.”

Buru grunted and lay down next to Kakashi, his jowly face serious. “On,” he grumbled.

Kakashi reached out to scratch the massive bulldog’s ears. “You can’t carry me the whole way home, Buru. You’d kill yourself trying.”

“On,” Buru repeated stubbornly, shaking Kakashi’s hand off.

Uuhei had busied herself rooting through Kakashi’s knapsack, pulling out everything in her quest. Finally her triangular head emerged with a scroll emblazoned with the Konoha medical seal. Holding it carefully in her teeth, she carried it over to Kakashi and dropped it in his lap. “Better do what you can for that wound, boss,” she chided. “It’s a long ways home.”

Sighing, Kakashi unsealed the scroll, revealing its standard issue contents, as well as the battered med-kit Rin had given him more years ago that he cared to count. Grimacing, he eased off his bloodied sandal and poured the entire bottle of alcohol over the wound. It hurt like hell, but at least it would kill practically anything. He dug out and dry-swallowed a broad-spectrum antibiotic, following it with an iron tablet, for the amount of blood he’d lost was already making him light-headed. 

Grimacing, he bound up the ankle as tightly as he dared, both in an attempt to stem the blood-loss and to stabilize the nearly severed tendon. If he was careful, he might get back in time for the medics to repair the damage. He looked at the tiny kit of antidotes to known poisons uneasily. Without knowing just which poison was in his blood, he could do even worse damage to himself by taking one.

Pakkun sneezed wetly and used his nose to shove a small package toward him. Kakashi accepted it, looking at the label. Testing strips. He’d forgotten he even had them. Managing a half-hearted chuckle, he broke the pack open and extracted a strip, dipping it into the blood that had pooled under his ankle before he’d bound it up. He counted out the seconds silently, waiting for the reaction that would tell him what poison was in his system.

At last, he wiped the blood away and stared uncomprehendingly at the result thus revealed. His gaze darted to the color-code imprinted on the cover of the test strip pack. There, at the bottom of the list, the damning color. An indeterminate, muddled-gray-green, next to it was a very simple, short notation. _Unknown type; seek medical attention at once._

Kakashi felt his breath escape him in one long, pained hiss. _“Fuck,”_ he growled.

Uuhei squinted at the color-code, tilting her head this way and that to read the lettering. She and Pakkun were the only members of his pack that could read, even a little, because the dogs had a hard time focusing on the words or how they all connected together. Bristling, her hackles raised, she turned to the rest of the pack. “Listen up, puppies! We need to get boss home as of right now! Pakkun, you and Akino run ahead for home, make sure the medics know we’re coming in. We’ll follow behind as fast as we can. Buru, Shiba, you two are with me and the boss. The rest of you, spread out and keep watch.”

Pakkun didn’t even bother with his usual grumpy response about just who was the alpha dog in the pack, nodding curtly and vanishing into the trees with Akino hot on his heels. 

Buru shoved his massive head under Kakashi’s hand. “On,” he repeated.

Uuhei shoved her nose hard in Kakashi’s back. “Do what he says, boss. We’re getting you home.”

Kakashi shoved half-heartedly at her muzzle. “I’m not letting him hurt himself to drag my carcass back to Konoha.”

“Don’t say carcass!” Shiba yelped, ears flattened and pale eyes wilder than usual.

Uuhei closed her mouth around his palm, teeth pressing gently. She tugged on his hand until it was resting on Buru’s thick, spiked collar. Letting go, she fixed him with serious blue eyes. “That’s why Shiba and I are here. We can help Buru. We can’t carry you, but we can lend him strength. We will get you home.” She growled softly. “The longer you argue the more the poison spreads. So get on already so we can get you home.”

With a final glare, Kakashi decided it was in his best interests to obey. Painfully, he hauled himself across Buru’s massive shoulders. The movement sent spikes of agony through his leg and he hissed between his teeth, clenching his fingers on the wide leather of Buru’s collar so tightly they ached.

Uuhei and Shiba nosed his scattered belongings back into the pack. Shiba lifted it in his teeth and settled it on Buru’s back between Kakashi’s legs.

Kakashi leaned forward, trapping the pack between his body and Buru’s wide back, adjusting the knapsack and his grip until he was certain they were both as secure as he could make them.

Buru grunted and rose to his feet. With Uuhei and Shiba flanking him, the massive bulldog took off for home.

The ride home was a tortured, malignant nightmare of pain and fever when the poison took hold. Kakashi lost track of anything but the searing, gnawing pain in his ankle and the fever that burned through him. The only moment of clarity was when Buru slipped crossing a stream and the violent shock of cold water drove away the haze of fever for a few moments. After Buru had scrambled up the muddy back, Kakashi called him to a halt and dug in his pack with trembling hands. 

He unearthed a spool of thin, lightweight rope and the folding grapple attached to it. He cut the grapple free and dropped it back into the bag. Forcing his shaking hands to obey, Kakashi looped the rope through Buru’s collar and handed it off to Uuhei. It took a minute to find his voice. “Tie me to Buru. I-I won’t be able to hold on much longer.”

Uuhei whined around the rope in her mouth, but obediently looped the rope around him and the massive black bulldog, eeling under him to pass the rope to Shiba. 

Shiba added more loops and passed the end back to Kakashi.

Kakashi had to concentrate hard to knot the rope. When he was done, he slumped gratefully over Buru’s back. “Take me home,” he whispered, knowing that they would carry his body back home if he succumbed to the poison. The darkness loomed and he did not fight against it, dropping back into fevered nightmares.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Kakashi knew where he was even before he could drag his eye open. The antiseptic smell of lemon-scented cleansers barely covering the copper tinge of old blood. Only one place he’d ever known had that particular stench. He was in the hospital, again. A whiff of a familiar perfume, underscored with the musty odor of sake told him who was patiently waiting for him to open his eye.

“I know you’re awake.” Tsunade’s voice sounded dreadfully tired, soft and with none of her usual biting sarcasm.

That frightened him enough to force his heavy eyelids to open. 

Tsunade sat in a chair beside his bed, shadows under her whiskey-colored eyes and strain showing in the set of her mouth. Her pale blonde hair was scraped back into a tight ponytail, tendrils escaping to trail over her forehead and cheeks. She was wearing a white medical smock instead of her usual garb.

“Yo,” Kakashi rasped, his throat achingly dry in a way that told him he’d been unconscious for a long time.

Tsunade reached out and thumped his bare forehead with her index finger. “Moronic brat,” she scolded, relieved affection in her tone. A smile curved her lips and brightened her eyes to true gold. She lifted a glass from the bedside table and held it so he could drink from the straw. “Sip slowly,” she admonished.

When he had wet his throat, she took the glass away, setting it down out of his line of sight.

Kakashi turned his head to follow the movement and the room swam alarmingly. He squeezed his eye shut with a pained hiss.

A cool hand rested on his forehead and a wash of tingling green chakra chased across his senses. “Relax,” Tsunade said quietly. “It’s aftereffects of the drugs we had to pump into you to stabilize you.”

Kakashi breathed a sigh of relief, the dizziness and pain receding like a tide. “I take it the pack got me home in one piece,” he murmured, keeping his eye shut while Tsunade’s chakra worked its magic.

The soothing flood of healing energy faltered for an instant, so briefly Kakashi thought he might have imagined it. He snapped his eye open and the stricken look in Tsunade’s tired eyes gave lie to the brief fancy.

Kakashi pushed himself up on his elbows, growling, “What? What happened?”

Tsunade looked away, the first time she’d ever done so in his experience. “Not entirely in one piece.” Her voice dropped down to a rough whisper, a choked sound like she was forcing back tears. “The poison in the wound was a necrotic, derived, as far as the researchers and I could determine, from the venom of the black Stone Orb spider.”

Kakashi _knew_ then. His heart settling firmly in his throat, he looked down at his blanket-covered feet. Or, more appropriately, foot. His left leg ended about six inches too soon, without a foot-shaped lump sticking up under the covers. His gorge rose.

Tsunade had a basin under his chin before he was even aware he was heaving. He threw up everything that was in his stomach, though it amounted to little more than some water and bile. When there was nothing more to vomit, he dry-heaved for a bit before slumping back against the pillows, laughing raspily with tears trickling down his cheeks. “Funny, isn’t it?” he managed. “I spend more than half my time around corpses in various states of dismemberment, but when it’s me, I suddenly turn squeamish.” His next laugh broke on a sob, and suddenly he was crying, great wrenching sobs tearing at his already raw throat.

Tsunade sat on the edge of the bed and pulled him into an embrace, stroking his hair. A flash of memory; when his father had committed suicide, Tsunade had held him much the same way then. The thought tore another wail of anguish out of him.

Tsunade held him, rocking back and forth, her hands gentle. She made little soothing noises; encouraging him to cry himself out.

Maybe it was the painkillers or other drugs in his system, but Kakashi wept until his eyes were swollen and his head so stopped up it felt like it might explode. He slumped in Tsunade’s hold, just trying to breathe. She said nothing, only cradled him like he was that long-ago child again.

When he could breathe again, Kakashi closed his eye and whispered into the damp fabric of Tsunade’s medical smock, “I’m sorry. I’ve failed you, Hokage-sama.”

Tsunade abruptly shoved him back, glaring, her fingers digging painfully into his shoulders. _“Never_ say that!” she barked. “You came back to me alive. That’s not a failure!” Her gaze softened and so did her voice. “Do you think less of me for preferring my ninja to come back home alive?”

“No,” Kakashi admitted. He gestured helplessly at his foreshortened leg. “But I’m a weapon of Konoha. And a broken weapon is useless.”

Tsunade heaved a sigh and reached out to ruffle his hair. “You are not useless. We just have to find a new way for you to be useful.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Two days later, Tsunade came into his hospital room again. “I have something for you to do when you get out of here.” She stepped aside and waved to someone hidden behind the door-jamb. “Iruka-sensei, say hello to your new assistant teacher.”

Umino Iruka stepped into the room, fixing the Hokage with a flat, unamused stare. “Not laughing.”

Tsunade folded her arms. “All well and good, considering this is not a joke. You’ll be training Kakashi here how to handle students at the academy. By the time he gets out of here, I expect him to be ready to teach a class with only minimal supervision. Am I clear?”

Iruka’s shoulders slumped in what could only be defeat. “Yes, Hokage-sama.”

Tsunade nodded and slapped Iruka on the shoulder hard enough to stagger him. “Good. Kakashi will be starting physical therapy in a few days. I expect you back here after classes every day. You can sit in on his therapy sessions and train him afterwards.”

Iruka nodded curtly. “Hokage-sama. Hatake-san.” He turned on his heel and stalked out, his back one solid line of affronted indignation.

Kakashi glanced after him. “He’s still holding a grudge.” He turned his attention back to Tsunade. “Really? An academy teacher?”

Her smile was grim. “Oh yes. You’ll be needed there. And once I fit you with a prosthetic foot, you’ll be more than capable of keeping up with a horde of pre-genin.”

“You hate me, don’t you?” Kakashi accused flatly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Iruka came by the hospital regular as clockwork after that, watching Kakashi being tortured by Tsunade and the physical therapists and then training him on how to be a academy teacher.

“ — Be patient, Hatake-san. You may have one or two students who’ll pick things up first try, but remember that they are children, first and foremost, and you might find yourself explaining things over and over to some of them. Or more times than that, if you have one like Naruto.”

Despite being in all kinds of pain from his therapy, Kakashi managed a chuckle at that. “He can be singularly blockheaded, can’t he? And I told you before, call me Kakashi.”

Iruka’s lips pressed together in a thin line, but he only nodded. “And one thing you really need to watch out for are some of the students from the bigger clans. More than a few of them start developing chakra problems early. Just last year, we had one lose control when her bloodline limit unexpectedly activated. I’ll teach you a couple of chakra blockers you can use on one who can’t or won’t get their chakra under control.”

Iruka demonstrated both of them for him, his face still set in a frown. “Can you remember these?”

Kakashi tapped the eyepatch over his Sharingan. “I’ll remember.”

But Iruka was still not satisfied until Kakashi had demonstrated both of them for him, twice.

Finally Kakashi threw up his hands and leaned back against his pillows. “I’ve got it, dammit! I had it the first time you showed it to me! Seriously, Iruka-sensei, why the hell do you hate me so much?”

Iruka stilled, hands frozen in mid-gesture. Slowly, he lowered his hands. “I... I don’t hate you, Kakashi-san,” Iruka murmured, looking down. “I just want the children to have the best education they can. Did you know that my classes have less than a ten percent death-rate after graduation? I want them to know everything that I can teach them, so that they keep coming back alive. So I want you to understand what I do, so you can have that same success rate. So Konoha’s children can come back to her, alive.”

With that, something thawed between them. Iruka relaxed and would even bring ramen “to cheer up the invalid.” Kakashi didn’t have the heart to tell him he wasn’t that fond of ramen.

The easing of the tension between them allowed Kakashi to notice a lot of things about Iruka. He’d already known Iruka was dedicated to his students, and some of that dedication showed in the way Iruka taught Kakashi. When Iruka wasn’t teaching him, he was watching Kakashi’s torturous physical therapy sessions with intent brown eyes.

Iruka was still determined to drill everything he utilized to teach his students into Kakashi’s head. But he wasn’t above poking fun at Kakashi, often doing something ridiculous just to make Kakashi laugh.

In turn, Kakashi found he no longer felt sorry for himself... at least most of the time. He had his moments still, but for the most part he was able to snark right back at Iruka without effort.

It was... nice.

The day Tsunade fitted Kakashi with a prosthetic foot, Iruka asked her and got permission to take him out to dinner. Despite having to use crutches to get around, Kakashi felt better than he had since he had woken up in the hospital. They ate, drank and talked well into the evening. Kakashi was astonished by just how much he and Iruka had in common besides their mutual loud orange student. Iruka was a complex individual, as much given to thoughtful contemplation as he was to screaming outbursts in classroom or mission room. Several times during the course of the night he would catch Iruka staring at him with a distant, contemplative look. Iruka looked as though he might say something in those moments, but then he would shake himself out of it and return to their cheerful conversation. It was almost like having dinner with two different Iruka-sensei’s.

But in spite of that, Kakashi found he liked getting to know the man behind the mission room worker and the academy teacher.

Iruka walked beside him back to the hospital, a comfortable silence stretching between them.

Kakashi’s stump ached like hell, but he didn’t want the night to end. For the first time since his injury, he wasn’t feeling anything but peace, and he didn’t want to lose the feeling.

All too soon, the bright lights of the hospital loomed out of the dusk.

When they made it back to Kakashi’s room, Iruka helped him remove his prosthetic and rubbed the swollen, aching scar for him with gentle, tanned fingers. “I kept you out too long,” Iruka said mournfully.

Kakashi shook his head. “No. I had a good time, really. I didn’t want to come back.”

Iruka snorted. “Given your penchant for escaping the hospital at first chance, why does that not surprise me?”

Kakashi didn’t even pretend affront. “Well, hospital programming leaves a lot to be desired. You know they don’t even have the Icha Icha Channel?”

Laughing, Iruka helped him prop his aching leg up on a pillow. “That’s terrible. You should speak to Tsunade-sama about that.”

“I shoul—” Kakashi broke off on an unexpected yawn.

Rising to his feet, Iruka smiled. “I’ve got to go anyway. You need to get some rest. Tomorrow’s likely to be a long one in therapy now that you’ve got your prosthetic.”

Kakashi rolled his shoulders, aching from using the crutches so long. “You’re probably right.”

“Goodnight, Kakashi-san.” Iruka turned toward the door.

Kakashi couldn't resist one final barb. “You took me out to dinner, Sensei. Shouldn’t I get a goodnight kiss?”

There was a moment’s silence, Iruka going as still as a statue. Then he turned slowly to regard Kakashi. His eyes were hooded and dark, unreadable. “When you get a kiss from me, Kakashi, I can promise it will be no joke.”

Disturbed, Kakashi could only watch Iruka vanish through the door, closing it behind him with a nearly silent snick. He didn’t miss the fact that Iruka had used no honorific, but he couldn’t suss out what it might mean. 

He slept little that night, confusion keeping him awake into the pre-dawn light.

Iruka showed up the next day as usual, acting as though nothing had happened. In its own way, that was just as disturbing.

Kakashi threw himself into therapy to evade the questions aching to escape.

Tsunade came in halfway through the session, watching with heavy-lidded eyes. “You’re doing quite well,” she put in finally. “I think, if you keep this up you should be able to handle a training day at the academy soon.” She glanced at Iruka. “What do you think, sensei?”

Iruka refused to meet her eyes, looking at his hands folded in his lap. “Whatever you command, Hokage-sama.” His voice was toneless and barely audible.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

True to her word, four days later had Kakashi observing in Iruka’s classroom. Most of the children had grown up on stories of the deadly copy-nin and were more than happy to stare at him and whisper to each other.

Iruka explained that Kakashi was observing them while he recovered from an injury. “Are there any questions you would like to ask Kakashi-sensei while we have him here?”

As one, every hand shot into the air.

Iruka sat back with a half-smile and simply watched Kakashi get the grilling of his life by a horde of adolescents.

It was the longest day of Kakashi’s life, bar none.

For all that he’d sat on his ass a vast majority of the time, he was utterly drained by the end of it. The walk back to the hospital seemed interminable, even with Iruka’s presence beside him. He reached the doors and promptly slumped in a chair in the waiting area, bending to rub at his aching leg.

Iruka stepped away and shortly returned with a wheelchair. Without a word he helped Kakashi into it and took him to his room.

Deftly, Iruka also helped him into his bed, unfastening the prosthetic foot and easing it off. He twitched the blanket over Kakashi’s legs and made to rise.

Kakashi touched Iruka’s arm. “You don’t have to help me, you know.”

Looking away, Iruka’s words were barely audible. “I don’t mind at all.”

“I’ll have to get used to doing it myself, you know.”

“I know.” Iruka’s shoulders hunched, but he said nothing else.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Kakashi woke to darkness, the only light thin cracks around the door and the pale moonlight pouring in the window. He wasn’t alone. Iruka sat on the windowsill, dressed in uniform pants and a sleeveless black singlet. He was staring out into the darkness, his brown eyes distant.

“Iruka-sensei? What are you doing here at this hour?”

“I needed some air.” Iruka’s laugh was humorless. His slipped off the windowsill and came toward the bed. The moonlight gleamed oddly off one of his bare shoulders and Kakashi squinted. Under a thin layer of salve, a dark red tattoo decorated the tanned shoulder.

Kakashi’s breath stuttered to a halt in his throat. He blinked up at Iruka, looking for the right words. Finally he said the only thing he could. “ANBU?”

Iruka sat down on the edge of the bed. His smile was sad, but his eyes were fierce and determined. He leaned close, his breath feathering warmly against Kakashi’s uncovered skin. “Not precisely,” he breathed softly. “The tattoo’s new.”

“What?” Kakashi got no further.

Iruka moved forward, as quickly as a striking snake. He grabbed Kakashi’s mask and yanked it down harshly. His lips, dry and chapped, captured Kakashi’s startled gasp. His kiss was expert, a quick clash of tongue and teeth.

It was over before Kakashi even realized it and Iruka was moving back. His face looked strangely pale in the wan light.

It didn’t take Kakashi long to understand that it wasn’t the light. Iruka’s skin paled even as he watched, the dark line of his scar fading into milky flesh. His brown hair shortened, bleaching into moonlit white. Within seconds, Kakashi was staring into his own face, mismatched eyes full of pain.

“Iruka?” he whispered, his throat tight.

Kakashi’s duplicate reached out, brushing gentle fingers down Kakashi’s bared cheek. “Yes, and no,” he replied, his voice a strange baritone that Kakashi realized must be how his own voice sounded to other’s ears. “You see now why I hardly ever left the village. Not because I love teaching, though I do; but because I can be anyone. Anyone at all.”

All at once, Kakashi got it. Iruka hadn’t been training a fellow teacher. He’d been teaching a _replacement._ “Why?” he managed, unable to articulate the sick certainty welling up like bile in his throat.

Iruka understood though. His newly mismatched eyes terribly sad, he smiled thinly. “Our hokage commands and we but obey. The village is particularly vulnerable now and we cannot appear to be so. You are one of our strongest assets. Therefore there must be a copy-ninja. If not the real one, a perfect copy will do.”

Iruka leaned down and brushed lips across his. “I enjoyed our time together. More than you’ll ever know.” Then he was across the room, poised in the window with all of Kakashi’s lanky grace. He did not look back.

“Iruka!” Kakashi found his voice.

The copy of his own face peered back at him.

“Stay alive,” Kakashi said fiercely. “Come back and spend more time with me. I’ll teach you more ways to be the copy-ninja.”

Iruka’s teeth flashed in a quicksilver smile and he was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This one wound up being a little darker than my usual fare, because of RL trauma, so sorry if it wasn't to everyone's tastes. (Minor edits done 4/23/2015)
> 
> Beta and helpfulness by Micah_n10.
> 
> Comments and concrit always welcomed.


End file.
